From The Files of Julia Shumway
by Wemmabby
Summary: Julia's diary, documenting her not-so-exciting daily life.
1. Rain

Dear Diary,

There are still so many questions about the dome. What is it? And where is it coming from? We all just want closure, you know? One question has, though, been answered. Apparently, rain clouds are capable of forming inside the dome. Luckily for the people of Chester's Mill, they were able to feel the soft drizzle of rain on their tongues today, while I felt other things on mine. Barbie kissed me today. In the rain. How romantic. Okay, well actually I might've been the one who kissed him...okay, we kissed each other. It kind of felt like a toilet being clogged. Picture this: Dale's lips as the plunger, and mine as the toilet, all plugged up with feces. Barbie took me by the hand and led me to the car, and we drove back to my place. Then we banged. It all happened so suddenly, I mean, most of the time I had no idea what was happening. It literally lasted like four minutes, which is a little too long for my taste, by whatever. At least it's over with. Right now, I'm lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, just jotting down everything. Dale's fast asleep, of course. I don't blame him. It's sure been a hell of a crazy day.

Hugs and kisses, Julia xx


	2. Yogurt

Dear Diary,

So, today I had to actually get out of my bed, because Harriet was pounding on my front door at seven in the morning. She wanted yogurt. YOGURT! And of course, I gave her some, because she's pregnant or whatever, I couldn't really tell. But then, that bitch laid her eyes on MY MAN. And I'm not exaggerating when I say that I saw the way she was looking at him. She just had this gleam in her eyes, like fireworks just went off in her heart or something. Sorry. I'm not really great at writing.

So then, Harriet runs out to the dome because she sees her husband or something, and touches it, and some sort of liquid starts pouring out from between her legs. Coffee? No. Her water just broke! Agh! And of course, she's all, "JULIAAAA!" And I have to run out there AGAIN, and drive her to the freaking clinic. Only we get robbed on the way there, by two handsome looking young gentlemen, and I can't help but wonder if they're single. I greet them with a subtle, "Hello, boys! Your mothers must be very proud." And they aggressively spit at me, "Shut the hell up, lady." Ah, teenagers. I look out the window, and to my surprise, BARBIE is standing there! Barbie! He scares off the intruders and saves my life, yet again. We take Harriet over to Alice, who delivers the baby along with Barbie's much needed help. I get to hold the baby for a second, and I can't resist how soft and cuddly this creature is. Would I make a good mother? Probably not.

Dale and I exit the room, leaving Alice to die and Harriet to eat her yogurt and admire her newborn child in heavenly peace. The first one born inside the dome, actually. He holds my hand as we walk home together, and I lightly kiss him on the cheek.

"I want one," I whisper to him. He just laughs at me, and doesn't say anything else the rest of the way home. Later, I shove him onto my bed and whisper "I was serious."

I think I need to stop writing now, because porn is not one of my strong suits.

Love, Julia. xx


	3. Linda

Dear Diary,

Rain check much? Today Linda and I made plans to go fishing. Yeah, that's right. Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean that I can't hook a sea creature like any other human being. But yeah, then at the last minute she decided to cancel on me. Apparently she had "classified business" to tend to. What the heck is THAT supposed to mean? Like, I know she's a police officer and all, and she has to keep quiet about some things, but I'm like her bestie. Linda and I have been domie homies since the start, so why would she feel the need to lie to me? It's not like I'd go blabbing my mouth to everyone in Chester's Mill. I'm not that kind of person. Shouldn't she know that? I don't know, man. It just aggravates me. Ok, gotta go. Harriet and I are having a girls' night out tonight. Okay, well, it's more like she's just dropping a pregnancy test off here. I kinda need to know if I'm pregnant.

Bye, Julia. xoxo


	4. News

Dear Diary,

Last night I found out two things:

One, I'm pregnant with Dale Barbara's baby.

Two, Dale Barbara is a murderer.

It all happened so fast. He shows up at home with this nasty cut on his face, which is oozing green puss. How unsanitary! He first approaches me on the stairway, but I soon make a rude comment about his appearance and walk away. Talk to the hand, bitch. So then he spills the beans and he makes me cry and my mascara starts running, dammit. Anyway, I'm pretty cool with the fact that he killed my husband. I mean, SOMEONE had to do it. Besides, I owe Dale Barbara a lot for the past couple of days. Where would I be without him? Oh, yeah...I wouldn't be here at all. Now I just have to find the right time to tell him that I'm pregnant.

Hugs and kisses, Julia Shumway.


	5. Karma

Dear Diary,

Karma is a bitch. Freaking morning sickness. I got vomit all over my new shower curtain today. The perks of being pregnant, I guess.

Barbie left for work a couple of hours ago. And when I say "work" I mean running around aimlessly, murdering random civilians as he goes. Reminds me of my teenage years.

Everyone thinks that this whole Dome thing is crazy, and that's perfectly fine. But see it from my point of view; my husband is dead, my boyfriend is out risking his life everyday, I'm pregnant, and my shower curtains have disgusting puke stains all over them. My situation is worse than it's ever been, and people like Linda Esquivel are the ones complaining. Let me set something straight: Linda, you are a useless idiot who lacks all common sense. Everything you do just BLOWS UP, and we all resent you for it. So suck it.

-Julia x


	6. Alice

Dear Diary,

I'm panicking, Diary. I hate to say it but I am. I need to tell Dale about my...situation...and soon. I absolutely hate keeping secrets. I just can't bear to lie to him much longer.

Oh, and believe it or not, Harriet and I actually hung out today. So I go over to her place, and little Alice is crying her eyes out. Harriet's on the other side of the room so she asks me to pick up the child and get it to shut up. So I start rocking Alice, and she instantly becomes silent. Harriet says I must have magical powers or something. Does that make me a better mother than her? I can't tell. Still, I must be on the right track. But I've still got a lot of work to do. I'll be a mother before I know it and I've never even changed a diaper.

Enough about that. I'm telling Barbie I'm pregnant first thing tomorrow morning. I'm just hoping that he won't reject me like some people would. *cough* Linda Esquivel *cough*

Sincerely, Julia Shumway


	7. Harriet

Dear Diary,

I should probably just apologize right now. While I still can.

I didn't tell Barbie that I'm pregnant. I mean, I don't like lying to him, but I don't want to jeopardize our growing relationship. Yeah, I know, I know. He'll have to find out eventually, and I realize that. It just doesn't have to be right now.

So, anyway, the main thing I wanted to talk about is Harriet. That woman is off her nut, I swear. We met for coffee today and now I'm going to describe the scenario to you in full detail: (because I think it will be fun to read over some day when I'm old and dying in a nursing home.)

_"So, you like coffee?" I ask Harriet with a smile. I don't know why I'm smiling. I'm not happy. I'm not amused._

_Harriet laughs viciously. "DUH!" She gulps down the whole cup in less than ten seconds. These are the things that scare me in life. Harriet and her obsession with coffee. It might even be worse than her yogurt addiction._

_"So, Harriet..." I start off, improving my posture ever so slightly. "Are there any specific...um...pointers you'd give me about the art of parenthood?" Harriet's laughing turns into snorting, and then coughing._

_"Just go with the flow," she says, making a wavy motion with her hand. I must admit, it's somewhat soothing. Along with the "Sounds of The Rainforest" CD she's playing, I guess you could say it's pretty chill here. We're sitting at a small table in Harriet's dining room, which is almost like a lair; just a personal space where she can keep all of her weird, crazy artifacts that she doesn't want anyone else to find. For example, her yogurt fridge. In it she has every single flavor of yogurt you could possibly imagine, from whipped strawberry to low-calorie beef jerky. It's actually kind of frightening._

_"You wanna move to the couch?" I ask her, because the yogurt fridge is really creeping me out right how. I feel like it's watching me or something. I need to get away._

_"Sure," says Harriet, giving me a wink. I wonder what that's all about. I hope she isn't getting the wrong idea_

_"Come and sit down," she says, patting the cushion beside herself. She seems eager to have me by her side. Maybe even a bit too eager._

_"Ok," I say, plopping myself down._

_Harriet's hand slithers up my arm._

_"H-Harriet?" I stutter._

_"Shhh." She puts her index finger to my mouth. Now I'm really confused. "Don't speak." Harriet begins leaning into me, and I struggle to escape her death grip, but it's no use. Our lips are just inches apart. If she'd just lean forward a little we'd be...wait a minute...kissing?! What the f-_

_I close my eyes and wait for her to move closer, and I feel her lips on mine. Only as soon as it begins, it's over._

_"You taste good," says Harriet, licking her lips. I can tell she wants me. She craves more of this; more of me. From my long giraffe-esque scruff to my delicious looking toenails, I may just be her new obsession._

_"Listen, Julia. I want you," says Harriet briskly._

_"That's not weird," I say wryly. "Look, Harriet. I-I'm sorry...but I'm really not into you that way." I arise from the sofa and gather my things, making my way out the front door. I'm surprised she doesn't try to stop me._

So, that's the story of how Harriet and I "kissed". But, y'know...just in the way that married woman randomly kiss their pregnant friends...

...never mind.

I figured I've probably been bothering you with all of my biased opinions and annoying thoughts and ideas that I've been cramming into diary entries lately. So I've decided to do things a little bit differently today. To be completely honest, I haven't written a story like that one in ages. Everything I've written down in the past ten years has been 99% gossip and 1% facts that I've actually taken the time out of my day to research. I need a break. I think we all do.

Anyway, right after I left Harriet's I realized that I wasn't into Harriet and that I wasn't into girls. And that's how this tale ends, ladies and gentlemen. To conclude, Harriet is a crazy whacko lesbian/bisexual/barsexual/possibly-just-likes-to- kiss-girls kind of woman. And I don't want to go back to her house ever again. I think I'll just get parenting tips from Big Jim instead.

xoxo, Julia


	8. Oops

Dear Diary,

Dale found out about the whole "oops, I'm pregnant" thing today. Turns out, Harriet was so mad at me that she went ahead and told him for me. Little be known to her, she was actually doing me a favor. I doubt I would've spilled the beans if it weren't for her. So, thank you, Harriet, for actually doing something right for once.

Anyway, Dale wasn't even angry about the whole pregnancy aspect of it all; he just didn't like the fact that I'd lied to him. I wanted to blurt out, "Look who's talking," but I managed to keep it all together. Still, that doesn't make my boyfriend any less of an asshole.

So that's how that went. Today I pulled an old baby-naming book out of the back of my closet. I figure I should probably start thinking about that kind of thing. So far the only names that stood out to me were boy names, so I must be having a boy. It's fate. No- it's my utmost irrefutable destiny. I can see it now: Dale and I in the delivery room, me squeezing his hand so hard that I leave nail marks in his skin. And finally, my child is born. "It's a boy!" exclaims the doctor. Linda, who I so generously invited to this lovely gathering, cuts the umbilical cord and my son is placed in the warmth of his family's welcoming arms. Dale and I...and this new little bundle of joy that was sent to us from heaven above...are now officially a family. We'll live in one of those grotty studio apartments, and no matter how disgusting it is, it'll be our home. And that's all that matters to me.

Oh, and by the way, I am for certain naming our son Skitty.

-Julia Shumway


	9. Ignorance

Dear Diary,

Well, it's been a while since I've last written. And as you can see, I'm pissed off.

DALE insisted that we are not having a son, but a prissy little daughter. Like, do you guys understand how badly I wanted to punch him in the face?

We are obviously having a boy. What is so hard for him to understand?

"I told you, we are going to have a son!"

"No, we're not."

"Yes, we are! His name will be Skitty James Barbara and there's absolutely nothing you can do to change that."

"No. When our daughter's born, we're naming her Amanda Jane Barbara."

"Screw you. Just watch; I bet our child will come out penis first."

Dale ran upstairs and locked himself in the bathroom.

We haven't talked since.

So, here are my annual reflections: Dale is an ignorant bastard who needs to reconsider his entire life before the both of our hearts are broken into pieces. Trust me, neither of us ever wanted it to be this way. Shit happens.

I'll see you guys tomorrow.

-Julia "All Knocked Up" Shumway


End file.
